


Mycroft’s insecurities -a mystrade fanfiction

by orphan_account



Category: Mystrade - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Greg Lestrade - Freeform, Lestrade - Freeform, M/M, Mycroft, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, Mycroft’s insecurities, Pure, Sherlock - Freeform, Smut, gregory lestrade - Freeform, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade have been going strong for 4 months. Mycroft admits his insecurities regarding his image.<br/>"We both end the night in tears, through the salty downfall we don’t catch them, not this time"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mycroft’s insecurities -a mystrade fanfiction

**Author's Note:**

> oHhhH well this is a little bit daunting; my first fan fiction's notes, well to avoid you being put off by my sheer awkwardness in text, I'll just end it here.

I’d managed to convince Mycroft, my boyfriend of 4 months, to abandon his work-a-holic status for tonight and have dinner with me. I am waiting upon his arrival, my stomach is doing what feels like a million backflips as I wait nervously by the telly. The doorbell sounds, I carry my heavy limbs over to the door and greet the most beautiful person in my life into my well worn flat in the middle of town.

“Evening Gregory” Mycroft examines my face before embracing in a far over-due kiss, it’d been two and a half weeks since I’d seen Mycroft and I can feel tears of reconciliation beginning to well in my corneas, but i push them away.

“Where was it this time?” I ask curiously although I know he won’t tell me, he won’t even tell me his job title for christ’s sake!

“If i were to tell you the location, I’d have to kill you” Mycroft breaths, a normal person would feel threatened, but I find my self semi aroused and left with not-so-clean thoughts on my mind.

“I love it when you do that” I tease

“What?” Mycroft steps to my right, close enough that I can feel his hot, sweet breath trickling down my neck and seeping into my heart, setting off my hormones.

“When you talk like that” I reply tilting my head towards his direction, Mycroft presses the bridge of his nose to my right cheek bone, not that I have any unlike the Holmes’. I bite my lip, trying to keep my emotions and intentions under control, the pizza man will be here soon and I’m sure seeing two grown men in their 40’s shagging on the lounge room floor will scar them for life.

***

I place the oily pizza box on the coffee table and gesture Mycroft to sit. Mycroft takes the plate I hand to him and selects the smallest slice of pizza and nibbles at the point. I ponder the reason for this act of minimal consumption of food, it flips over and over in my mind until feel sick and excuse myself to go the the loo.

I return with the obvious answer, jet lag or fatigue due to travel of some sort, I don’t know why I was so concerned. Once I rejoin the beautiful man with icy blue eyes and snow-white skin we spend the rest of the night telling childhood stories,

“I wasn’t the most well-loved peer but I was certainly a well loved pupil” Mycroft chuckles, but I can see something further than just the little love shown by his classmates, I want to ask but I keep my trap shut and let the thought pass.

***

It’s late when we step onto Mycroft’s front porch of his bizarrely normal-ish town house, for a man of his wealth. you’d expect, well, more, but Mycroft loves it, he loves the quiet isolated area due to the cul de sac on the brink of his street and the victorian style heritage of his house.

“Goodnight Mycroft Holmes” I coo after he’d punched in the 20 digit pass code to the his house.

“Oh” he replies rather abruptly, “I thought you were staying the night, I even had Anthea makeup our bed”. Mycroft furrows his eyebrows, pouts his bottom lip and widens those perfect blue eyes of his, I mightn’t be a Holmes’ but I can read this expression: "Gregory, I haven’t seen you in nearly two weeks and now that I’m inviting you into my house to fuck me, you won’t come? “.

I roll my eyes at his plead and run up stairs into hi-our room.

***

“good morning tiger” Mycroft says slyly then imitates the noise a tiger would make, somewhat embarrassed I manage a stifled laugh. Mycroft is already half dressed expect for his nether regions, I sit upright with a curling smile plastered on my face amused by the spectacular view.

I come to my senses once his genitalia is covered by expensive pinstriped pants, I moan, "why must you leave me?” I try using that expression he’d last night on the porch, but it fails;

“I have a brunch with the PM, honey” Mycroft caresses my head, kisses my temple and tries to tame my post-sex hair. I step out of the silk sheet covered queen-sized bed to find myself completely naked, Mycroft laughs as I stand in the middle of his-our room completely nude. I look everywhere in the room but fail to find my garments I’d discarded the previous night. Mycroft is still laughing,

“Mycroft! where are they?” I plead, my body continues to shiver due to it being the middle of winter, just before new years, and my body having not a single layer. Mycroft leaves the room only to return with not-so-fantastic news,

“One of my house-keepers thought your garments were laundry, they are in the middle of a load and if you put them on now you’ll most likely die of pneumonia” Mycroft laughs.

“Fine” I say turning my nose in the air and walking to Mycroft’s dresser, I steal a pair of his boxer shorts as well as a pair of track pants and a long sleeved shirt. When I turn back to Mycroft he looks embarrassed, I can tell because his ear-tips are a few shades pinker then his usually pale skin and he is avoided eye contact like the plague.

“Honey?” I try, there is that same feeling I received back at my place, the thought I’d suppressed and forgotten, there it was, dwindling in his precious blue eyes and his now conservative way of handling himself. Mycroft snaps back into place like he was only day dreaming or something innocent like that, I change my expression from concerned to a fake generic smile, something’s defiantly wrong.

***

“How was your day?” I question as I slide easily under the silk covers on h-our bed, I’m not quite sure and I have bigger issues than clarifying the ‘his-our bed situation’ dominating my thoughts.

“No fun, just a load of hoity toity rich people with their nickers in a bunch” Mycroft laughs at his own language, he places the novel that he’s currently reading on his side’s bed side table and turns out the only light source left in the room, leaving us to darkness.

“I love you” I say dotting his cheek with a kiss and coiling my arm around his torso.

“I love you also” the auburn haired politician replies soothingly.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” I ask, lately his self image has been troubling me and I needed clarification.

Mycroft grunts and replies with “the definition of beauty is far from fitting my aspects, Gregory”. 

I turn on my bedside table’s light and stare at him for what seem like hours, his crisp morning sky blue eyes, the faint dotted freckles on his nose’s bridge and his nose! The feature was likely the most potent on his face and I loved the way it was shaped. I see the little self love staring back at me, you can see it, by the way he handles his body, diet, words around the topic of anything regarding this sort of thing. it was frustrating, here lies a beautiful man right next to me and he won’t realise it, a singular tear creeps down my cheek, not a tear of physical pain but a tear of hurt, emotional pain, the sort of pain that comes from realising that the man you love, with out exception, doesn’t love or respect himself. Mycroft lets his guard down for once so someone besides a Holmes could read him.

He opened up the gates

To all his pain

I could see it now

Mycroft moved his hand and caught my tear, he clenched it in his fist and I believe that this was the moment that our relationship, our commitment grew stronger. I feel deeper in love with the man I new was the one I belonged with for my entire life, for once Mycroft let me pull him apart piece by piece.

***

“throughout my teenage years, it was the worst time for my self image” Mycroft draws a shaky breath and continues, “outcast, reject. I moved out after university, I stopped eating. Ever since then I’ve been limiting every portion”. His perfectly moulded body shudders, I can feel the tremors in the mattress. Mycroft opens his clenched eyes, “I don’t think you understand how much I hate myself Greg! You, Sherlock and Britain are the only reason why I wake” Mycroft sobs in my arms, his masculinity not shaking with each, desperate gasp for oxygen, or short howl of expressed emotions.

We both end the night in tears, through the salty downfall we don’t catch them, not this time.

“Mycroft Holmes I will make you realise you’re beautiful, worthwhile, handsome and that I love you for exactly who you are”, his response I feel will signal he’ll be reluctant to my love but to my surprise he replies with a question,

“Promise?”

I coddle the eldest Holmes child in my arms, in our bed, in our house and I promise to protect him from his evil. He falls asleep in the nape of my neck, he fell asleep to my soft kisses on his forehead, he fell asleep to the first promise and person he could trust.

**Author's Note:**

> How'd you like it? compliments and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is very welcome :)  
> Got a fan fiction writing prompt (I'm very prone to writer's block) please pay my a visit on my tumblr: letstradedeerstalkers OR my business email is alway open: letstradedeerstalkers@gmail.com  
> love you all, thanks for the read xx


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